Page 57 of Only for Christmas

‘Mixed with antiques.’

‘Clever.’

He did a double take. ‘You mean, it worked?’

‘I’ll admit, I’m intrigued.’

They parked up in the neighbouring field and Lucas jumped out of the car and came around to help her out. Fumbling over trying to fasten her coat one-handed, she allowed him to zip up her coat and fix her scarf. She drew the line at letting him hold her hand.

‘Selfie time,’ he said, positioning her in front of the building. ‘Instagram post.’

She stepped away. ‘I told you, I don’t do social media.’

‘But I do,’ he said, easing her back into position. ‘Stephen has started following me. I’m keen for him to see this.’ He snapped the shot just as Sarah turned to him.

‘He’s following you? Why don’t you block him?’

‘Then he won’t get to see how happy and in love we are. Smile for the camera, honey.’ He rested his cheek against hers and lifted his phone.

She tried to smile, but she suspected it looked more like shellshock.

‘This is the best way of deterring him. Trust me… Hold still.’ And then before she could escape, he kissed her cheek, snapping another shot.

‘What the hell?’ She rubbed her cheek.

Unperturbed, he showed her the photo.

Her eyes were wide, her cheeks were pink, and Lucas was kissing her. It was the perfect ‘couple’ shot. ‘Will anyone else at work see this?’

‘That’s the plan. You need it to be convincing, and this is how we do it.’ He pocketed his phone. ‘Shall we head inside?’

Sarah was still reeling from being kissed. ‘Might as well, now we’re here.’

They headed for the queue at the entrance. She felt strangely at odds, partly perturbed by the events in her life, and yet somehow enjoying herself. Spending time with Lucas was a great distraction. She’d spent too long existing inside her own head; there’d been no one to challenge her reasoning, or offer an alternative perspective. Her fault, entirely. She’d cut people off, withdrawn from socialising and retreated into her safe, insular world. How dumb she’d been.

Shaking off her thoughts, she looked at the gorgeous architecture on display, grand ornate pillars, and a stone archway framing the oak door. Inside the building was just as impressive: oil paintings hung on the walls next to woven tapestries and coat-of-arms insignias.

They were directed into the first room, where a selection of period furniture had been staged to form a festive display by the fireplace. A mahogany desk took centre stage, with wingback chairs either side. The fireplace roared behind, the flames spitting embers onto the concrete flooring. The mantel was adorned with brass candelabras holding advent candles, and surrounded by a woodland garland. Small figurines on the desk formed a nativity scene.

Lucas cleared his throat. ‘Interesting that you mentioned Oliver Cromwell earlier. Did you know he banned Christmas in the UK for twelve years? It was also banned in the US too, and in some areas it was only lifted in 1907. Can you believe that? Christmas was banned for over two hundred and sixty years.’ He turned to her and smiled. ‘And you thought you had an aversion to Christmas.’

Sarah folded her arms. ‘Are you comparing me to Oliver Cromwell?’

‘You’re much prettier,’ he said, nodding towards the next room. ‘Shall we?’ He led her through to the banqueting hall, where a number of vendors had set up stalls. Choral music played softly in the background and mulled spices filled the air. Above them, giant shimmering baubles secured with red ribbons hung down from the ceiling.

‘Classy enough for you?’ He was clearly pleased with himself.

‘Consider me impressed.’

The first set of stalls sold a range of antique tree decorations. They had everything from Nordic soldiers to figurines of suffragettes holding up placards with ‘Votes for Women’ chalked onto them. There was even a French musketeer, complete with feather hat and musket-gun. Sarah had never seen such exquisite ornaments.

‘Christmas decorations can be traced back to ancient Rome,’ Lucas said, picking up a glass bauble wrapped in antique ribbon. ‘They celebrated the pagan festival of Saturnalia. Homes were decorated in flowers and wreaths, and they’d host this giant feast where gifts were offered to the gods.’

Her hand went to her hip. ‘For someone who doesn’t like antiques, you seem to know a lot about their history.’

His smile was playful. ‘Did you know, the first recorded Christmas trees were decorated with apples and candy canes? Pastries were added to the trees in the shape of hearts and stars.’ He sounded like a really hot tour guide, which was oddly distracting. ‘Traditional glass baubles didn’t come into manufacture until the fifteen hundreds.’

‘Blimey,’ the woman running the stall said. ‘He knows his stuff. You want to buy anything, love?’

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